The Breaker (The Secret of Spellshadow Manor #2)(11)

Jari drew streams and spirals of magical energy from within himself. The ripples curled and weaved about his fingertips, golden and powerful, before he hurled them at Aamir.

There was such rage, such anger, behind the blows that Aamir’s face had gone pale. The magic was powerful because it was driven by emotion, but it was spiraling out of control. They could all see it, bristling around Jari like static electricity, sparking and pluming from his body as if he were on fire. The entire surface of his smooth skin seemed to be alight with golden flames, rippling through his veins, the glow visible beneath his flesh. His blows were erratic and fearsome, his hands twisting and turning so fast they were barely visible, one after another in quick succession. Each narrowly missed Aamir as he tried desperately to cast them all aside, not wanting to hurt his friend in retaliation.

Suddenly, Alex saw Jari conjure up a solid blade of golden light in one hand, the boy’s hands shaking from the strain of molding it. Jari’s eyes were ablaze, as if drunk on the power. He raised his hand and sent the golden blade directly toward Aamir’s chest, sparking a wispy trail of magical energy as it soared through the air toward its target. It would have hit Aamir, too, had Alex not seen and realized what was going to happen. Thinking quickly, Alex focused his anti-magic on the fast-moving blade of magical matter, and deftly turned his hands, feeling the weight and texture of the magical weapon as he exploded the object from within into a flurry of harmless snow.

Alex stood, stunned, as the fight came to an abrupt halt. He stared down at his hands, still covered in rapidly melting flakes of snow. He had managed to look at an object and a person and form the right anti-magic to defuse the magic, without even having to close his eyes. Natalie gave him a thumbs-up from across the room, though it seemed a peculiar moment to feel pleased about his success. Jari was trembling on his side of the room, his face drained of color. Aamir was much the same on the other side, and seemed to have realized the blade had been intended to inflict actual, savage pain on him.

“Jari, calm down. You need to calm down,” Aamir said softly, moving across the room to stand with his friend. He placed a hand on Jari’s shoulder, rubbing it gently to try to soothe him. Jari’s breaths were labored and rasping in his throat. Sweat dripped from his brow, pooling across his shirt as he tried to regain control, his hands shaking, his knees knocking, his whole body shivering.

Aamir sat Jari down on the floor, beckoning the others to join them in a circle.

“I’m sorry,” Aamir began. “I’m sorry that I don’t seem like myself. Believe me, I don’t feel like myself. You are my friends, and I have been unkind to you all,” he continued, his face downcast. “It’s this thing—you have to believe me when I tell you, it is all this thing,” he confessed, pulling back his sleeve to reveal the golden band, glinting wickedly in the low torchlight of the cellar. A look of pain passed across Aamir’s expression, his forehead furrowing.

“What does it do?” Alex asked.

“Hurts, mostly,” Aamir said wearily. He looked far older than his nineteen years.

“What sets it off?” Natalie asked, examining the thing cautiously.

Aamir shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. I don’t know exactly how much power it has. All I know is, when I say things, it sends a shock of pain through my body. I don’t know how much it can do—whether it hears what is going on around me, whether it monitors me as well as keeps me from saying things it doesn’t want me to.” Aamir’s face screwed up into a grimace, and he winced in pain. “You should be careful of what you say and do around me. Exercise caution. Don’t say or do anything that could get you in trouble.” He glanced at Alex intently for a moment, conveying a silent message. “I’m not even sure I’m supposed to be doing this, with you.” Aamir gestured around the room, his shoulders sagging.

“Do you want me to try and…” Alex trailed off, remembering not to say anything condemning. He pointed to his wrist instead and waved his hands about in the air, hoping Aamir understood the charade.

Aamir shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Too risky.”

“I don’t mind,” Alex insisted.

“I mean, they will notice if it isn’t there anymore. They will see,” Aamir explained, his eyes wide.

“You could at least try,” Jari muttered sullenly, shaking Aamir’s hand off his back.

“I’m sorry. It’s like I said, things have changed. Everything has changed,” Aamir replied. “Even if you could get this thing off, it wouldn’t mean I was free. I still wouldn’t be able to come here as I pleased, and run about with you guys the way I used to. Even if it was gone, I’d still have to act as if it were there. Do you understand?” Aamir’s voice was heavy with sadness as he sat back against the cellar wall, glancing up at the ceiling. He looked so very tired. “The risk is too high, for all of us.”

“Aamir?” Alex said.

Aamir tipped his head forward again, leveling his gaze with Alex. “What is it?” he asked.

“Would you mind if I tested the… in case it comes up later on… down the line?” Alex pointed at the band on Aamir’s wrist.

Aamir looked down at the line, watching it pulse and fizz and crackle against his skin. He looked to Alex, and nodded slightly. “Just to check—to touch and no more,” Aamir warned.